Symbiosis
by Detroness
Summary: Yharnam. The town which was our salvation and our sanctuary from the suffocating lives we left behind, or so we thought... Now through the depths of insanity, it is only here do I find clarity to the eldritch truth that we left behind when we shed our mortal reality for the immortal dream we live in...
1. Prologue

_Just a few quick notes before we begin: _

_I've sadly never played Bloodborne, so I apologize ahead of time if some of the events/lore is off. Please message me about the mistakes, so I can correct them as soon as possible. _

_This chapter is just my character's memory, the next one flash forwards towards later in the story-line. _

_Thanks to handy-dandy discussion forms about the various endings, I've decided to take those ideas and run with them. So, spoiler alert (most likely) about certain events/people during this story. _

_The ending of this story might go beyond the actual ending of the game, depending on how creative I get and hopefully not so outlandish that it isn't believable anymore. _

_Last note, my character's gender is female since I'm the same and because I have some wonderful but macabre ideas that directly relate to the pivotal role that the gender of the OC/The Hunter and how this ties into with the mystery surrounding the The Great Ones. Of course, these ideas are just that ideas... And as far as I know, don't apply to in-game content/story. _

_I hope you enjoy what I have to offer. _

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"Oh, yes… Paleblood…"

The figure let out a huff of a laugh.

"Well, you've come to the right place."

The wheelchair creaked as the figure slowly made his way towards me.

"Yharnam is the home of blood ministration."

"You need only unravel its mystery."

The bleak moonlight and shallow lamp light began to reveal the man in detail.

"But, where's an outsider like yourself to begin?"

He is old. His clothes are tattered in some areas, and the faint whiff of blood seethed off of him.

"Easy, with a bit of Yharnam blood of your own…"

My heartbeat spiked when I saw his face: aged with lesions spread across his gaunt cheekbones, a bristled grey beard and stringy hair, but his eyes…

The eye that was illuminated by lamplight was gone…

Only the old blood stained bandages stretched over his cavernous eye socket.

"But first, you'll need a contract…"

I can hardly comprehend the words on the frail page...

They blur together in a murky haze and a headache pulses like the beating of drums through my skull.

"Good. All signed and sealed."

"Now, let's begin the transfusion. Oh, don't you worry."

"Whatever happens… You may think it all a mere bad dream…"

The man chuckles and I fade into black as the process begins…


	2. I

_Bloodborne (c) From Software: I do not claim to own any part of this amazing world and its memorizing cast of characters._

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The stench of sour blood permeates the air in the dank alleyway. Hissing in a mixture of disgust and victory, the presence in my blood then silences itself in pride at the sight of the carnage I've created. Quickly, I leave the area and then ascend a ladder in hopes for a better lay of the dreary landscape. As I near the top, I quiet my footfalls on the ladder steps and cautiously approach and sneak a glance around the rooftop. Good, no beasts or blood-addled hunters.

I pull myself up and immediately settle myself against the twisted railing. My eyes systematically rove over the warped spires of Yharman that seemingly reach into the blood red sky. Down in the twisting alleyways below, various beasts and crazed townspeople prowl through the smog in mindless and voracious packs looking for careless hunters.

A cool evening breeze carries the untainted scents of the world beyond Yharman and for a fragile moment, it's peaceful. The 'wings' of my Crowfeather Garb ruffles in the breeze and I pull the bottom part of my hunter hat off of my face to soak in the fresh air.

Chak. Chak. Chak. Chak. Chak… Chak… Chak…

Footsteps?

Yanking my mask back on, my muscles tingle at the thought of another grizzly confrontation. Crouching down, I sneak towards the ladder and then glance down at the rungs.

Nothing.

Then where-?

Shrieking in surprise, my blood recoils into a series of growls as I evade away from my attacker and level my rifle at their head.

Shit...

"Well, well… It seems that the rumors are true. You finally joined a covenant, 'tis a pity 'twas not the Vilebloods. You would have traveled far through our ranks, Vayle."

Ranks? The Executioners would do well to know of this development.

I freeze as Ludwig's Holy Sword presses into my sternum.

…If I get out of this situation.

Dripping with my blood, my mask is sticks to my face. Ripping the ruined fabric over my shoulder, I ignore the scent of my own blood mingling in the air. Growling in irritation, my blood prowls through my veins at a measured pace with anticipation.

A coy smile alights the ivory face that I'm painfully familiar with. Her face is framed in soft crimson curls while predatory golden eyes stare into mine with a cool air of confidence that sets the presence within my blood on edge.

"Natasha. What a pleasure to see you again."

"I am quite pleased that I am able to say the same thing to you, Vayle." Natasha purrs with a throaty rasp.

Glad to know that somethings haven't changed…

A breeze rushes past her and into my nose. Bringing the pungent scent of a hunter's blood to my nose, teasing the presence in my blood. A laugh escapes her full lips and golden eyes narrow with a look of knowing.

"Is something amusing?" I lightheartedly ask, mixing a tone of faux innocence into the question.

Her eyes glitter like sun kissed gold and her laughter dies down, but that's when her expression turns dangerous. Despite the threat of the blade and her look, I remain frozen and force myself to relax.

"I am curious," The blade leaves my chest with only a slight scratch and Natasha draws closer. "Indulge me, Vayle. Why do you resist the call of your blood? I know that look in your eyes the movements you mask when you smell blood, be it hunter or beast. T'would be much more practical than this," She pauses with a finger pressed against her lips in a staged look of thought and then with a grandiose gesture, "unnecessary struggle you endure?"

A course fragment of a laugh escapes my lips, "What is life without struggles, Natasha? I would assume that you, of all people whom I have met, know this lesson very well. Or am I wrong?"

A smirk spreads across her lips and then she rests a hand on her hip, "No, you are not wrong. In fact, truer words have never been spoken."

Natasha bows in a mocking fashion, and then pivots sharply and walks a few paces back.

"Having a successful hunt?" I remark, giving the bloody two-handed blade on her back a scrutinizing glare.

She glances over her shoulder and with a smile, "Yes, I have. Although my next target is bound to be my last hunt of the night."

Holding back the question that lingers on my tongue, I settle for simply giving her a look by raising an eyebrow.

Natasha spins around and with another lavish hand gesture asks, "Now, tell me Vayle; are we to dance to the melody of our blood tonight or shall we sing our own duet instead?"

"Well, you'd be the first one to know that I have a horrendous singing voice. Sends the birds to the ground like hail, if you'll recall."

Cold steel digs right below the laceration in my cheek and with a cheeky grin Natasha asks, "Then shall we dance?"

A coy smile of my own forms on my lips, "Dance we shall."

I pull the trigger but she lunges forward, underneath the volley of bullets. Leaping back, I holster Ludwig's rifle to my thigh and then vault myself over the railing.

My palms slam into the tiles of the roof and I push myself further out of Natasha's reach. Landing on the balls of my feet, I pivot hard on my right foot and arc my blade upwards.

Clang!

Parrying her stroke, I dart forward and pivot again on my left foot. Lunging forward, I strike with the Blade of Mercy into her back. Leaving her snarling in pain and more than a few deep wounds.

She whips her sword around-

Thud!

Pain blooms in my temple and I blindly tumble down the slanted rooftop but my feet are the first thing to hit nothing.

Shit!

Slamming my left handed dagger through the rooftop, a grunt of effort leaves my lips. Down below, the growls and vicious shouts ring out from the smog as bits of the tile fall off the roof.

What did she hit me with?

Black dots swim in my vision and I have to shake my head a few times before they clear. ...Revealing Natasha standing over me with her sword glinting in the evening light.

Shit...

Pain explodes in my left wrist as sword runs through the limb, and twists. I scream and instinctively grab her blade with my right hand, trying to stop the twisting. Finally, it stops and I take a shuddering inhale of relief.

With steadying inhales, I finally meet her predatory gaze with a faux unruffled look of my own but my breath halts in my throat when my right eye is practically jammed into the barrel of her rifle.

"'Tis a pity… I always enjoyed dancing with you, Vayle."

A grin forms on my face despite the pain and the immediate danger, "Same to you Natasha, but I always remember that you loved to play rough no matter what we were doing."

She laughs again but this time Natasha pauses with a look of contemplation cementing itself on her face. With a tilt of her head, Natasha's expression turns serious.

"You may be able to resist the call of your blood for a time, Vayle."

"Oh?" I grit out through the throbbing pain. Anxiousness prickles at my nerves at her sudden change in attitude, and the presence in my blood growls in displeasure.

"But you are still human, and with being one comes limitations. It is nigh time that humans move beyond our stagnant ways and evolve into higher planes. The planes only gods can walk," Natasha remarks, golden eyes glinting despite the disappearance of the sunlight.

"Then what does that make us after we evolve? Demi-gods?"

She snorts with a smirk on her face, "It is a fair presumption but it is just a presumption. And, it does not change the truth."

I narrow my eyes, "The truth?"

Natasha utters a throaty chuckle and her golden eyes spark again.

"The truth that you will desperately seek in the coming future. It lies beyond the ocean of insanity and only when you step onto the forbidden shore will you find the truth, Vayle." She whispers with that same look of knowing.

"What do you mean, Natasha?!" I growl out, and then another cry of pain escapes my lips as she twists the blade again. "Shit," I hiss and then glare at her.

Another chuckle and a coy smile is all that I get for a reply.

"All will be revealed in time, Vayle. Just remember that while gods play with simple die, fate plays chess. The only difference is that when you're about to lose, do you realize that your opponent has two queens."

Two queens?

A course laugh escapes my lips while my eyebrows purse together and I dryly remark, "I hope you know that you are impossibly vague sometimes, Natasha."

Another laugh and her eyes glitter dangerously. Natasha's hand rests on the hilt of her blade and the barrel of the gun leaves my eye only to be replaced with the butt of her rifle resting against my forehead.

"I know," Natasha grins.

Yanking the sword from my wrist, the butt of her rifle slams into my forehead just seconds later. I cry out and fall. Sinking through the air, the last thing I see is Natasha's face with that coy smile still painted on her face.

…

Bloody fucking shit...

It feels like hours have passed by and I am soaking in putrid blood that drips from my clothes. Both my wrist and head are still aching from the scuffle with Natasha but both injuries have healed to the extent where they haven't impeded my combat, to my eternal relief. Besides those injuries, multiple lacerations litter my body and my ribs ache from a particularly nasty glow I failed to dodge.

Well, at least my weapons are intact and I'm not dead. A few paces off are the ghostly messengers that are seemingly worshiping the lantern. A sigh of relief escapes my lips and I crouch down to the lantern and then rest a blood soaked glove against the lantern.

Time to return to the Hunter's Dream.

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_I have to say that I had a lot of fun with this chapter~ :D I apologize if the fighting scene is hard to follow, I'm not quite pleased with it myself and might edit it in the future so that it flows naturally. _

_While I was composing this I had a good friend of mine read through it out loud, but after she was done, she was a bit confused about the whole 'Presence in my Blood'. I have a sneaking suspicion that some of you might be a bit confused as well but not quite the extent she was because of the fact that you've been exposed to the whole 'Bloodborne' package and she didn't even know what it was._

_Basically, it's just like it sounds: something is 'lingering' in Vayle's blood. While it isn't exactly a malevolent aspect that causes her to end up like Father Gascoigne, it's not exactly a benevolent aspect either that helps her out. It's just there and at the moment it's neither good nor evil. _

_Some other aspects of this chapter that you may or may not have caught are these: _

_a.) Vayle is a member of the Hunter of Hunters Covenant _

_b.) Natasha is a member of the Vileblood Covenant_

_I hope you've enjoyed this chapter so far and thank you for reading and possibly reviewing, if you so choose to do so. _


	3. II

_Bloodborne (c) From Software: I do not claim to own any part of this amazing world and its memorizing cast of characters._

_Just a filler chapter. Adding an Executioner into the mix as the final (hopefully) OC. Next chapter is the battle. _

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"Thank you," I remark and then perform a Hunter's Salutation.

The Doll bows back and then murmurs, "Farewell, good hunter. May you find your worth in the waking world."

A chorus of moans echoes from the messengers and I glance over my shoulder in mixture of curiosity and unease. The faint outline of Ludwig's Holy Blade starts to materialize. Instinctively, my own hand rests against the Blade of Mercy in anticipation.

"There is nothing to fear in this dream, good hunter. All are welcome to the dream. Blood cannot be spilt in this dream until the night nears its end." The Doll says.

The presence in my blood resumes its languid pace through my veins, seemingly calmed from the Doll's statement. Tension and unease leave me as the familiar, but significantly friendlier, face appears from the fog. A look of pleasant surprise lights across the face, "Vayle! How is the hunt?"

"Tobias," I send a nod in his direction. "The hunt has gone well so far, however I bring news to the Executioners."

"Do tell," He holsters his sword and gestures to the stone path that leads to the field of white flowers.

"During the hunt, I encountered a Vileblood." I begin and then glance at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Encountered?" Tobias asks, his tone a mixture of sarcasm and skepticism.

"Fought." I supply, confirming his suspicion.

He nods with a grim smile on his face, "That sounds closer to the truth."

"She mentioned, offhandedly, about the Vileblood's numbers; said that I would have traveled far in their ranks."

"She?" Tobias asks, glancing at me in confusion.

"Her name is Natasha. I knew her from before the dream." I confess but I meet his questioning gaze unabashed.

"Did you two hunt together?" He asks, and I take a moment to scan for disgust or suspicion that might be on his face.

Finding nothing, I reply, "For a time. We stopped just shortly before I started hunting with you."

"What happened?"

"I'm assuming that she eventually grew bored and looked for new challenges."

A dubious expression crosses his face and he raises an eyebrow, "Not exactly a characteristic I would attribute to a hunter."

"A successful hunter," I correct.

"How successful?" Tobias asks, concern tinting his deep voice.

"Considering the thought that we were on par with our hunting skills before she parted ways, I can only imagine that she's become stronger."

Silence encompasses us as we stroll through the field, and I'm certain that Tobias is analyzing what I've told him - to the point where some might call it obsessive.

Suddenly, he stops and then turns to me, "You said that you knew Natasha before the hunt, Vayle?"

I nod, silently waiting for the other foot to fall.

"Do you remember from where?"

Pausing, I try to grasp the memory from labyrinth of my mind but my blood howls in my veins and surges with a force that causes me to convulse briefly. Hot pain pulses rushes through my veins and thrums in my head, and I cry out as I fall to my knee. The world turns into a murky red haze and my hands hit the path to prevent me from banging my head against the stone path. Like a kaleidoscope, everything continually fades in and out of focus while air rushes in and out of my lungs in ragged wheezes.

Finally, it stops.

"Shit," I hiss out and shakily rest a hand against my knee.

A sudden weight on my back makes me stiffen in surprise, and I look up at Tobias.

"Something wrong?" He asks, concern written across his face.

"I – I don't know. I tried to recall the memory, but that's when the pain started."

"Could be a warning," Tobias suggests.

I hum in agreement and then stand back up. Tobias, however, doesn't remove his hands…

"About what?" I pose the question, and he shrugs one shoulder.

Another exhale escapes my nose as I imagine the remnants of pain wash away as I step away from Tobias's hand and walk into the field of white flowers.

"It could be connected to Natasha. You are familiar with her and the memory you tried to recall was related to her."

"Possibly."

"Weren't you saying something earlier about the Vilebloods?"

"Yes," I nod, "She mentioned their growing ranks and I highly doubt that it was merely a slip of the tongue."

"You think that she'd rely on your reporting this information to the Executioners?"

"Yes," I confirm with conviction lacing my tone. "I would go as far to say that she wants the Executioners to go to Cainhurst Castle – what better way to lure prey than with its own desires?"

He nods, "I have to admit that your friend is cunning. What do you suggest?"

"Send in a few scouts and see if the claims are true, and then attack if necessary."

"Are you volunteering then?"

"Possibly. I know her better than anyone else, and hopefully predict some of her moves before she makes them." I reply.

'_Then there's that message she left me; two queens…' _

"Very well then. I will inform Alfred about this development and round up the rest of the Executioners. We'll strike within a few hours – for the element of surprise."

I nod and shift my weight on one leg as I cross my arms across my chest and then stare up at the full moon. Before I can react, warmth and the scent of winter envelops me as strong arms rub circles into my back. Stiffening in surprise, I look up at Tobias – practically craning my neck – with a curious expression on my face. Hazel eyes peer into mine with an unreadable expression, "For luck."

A sly smirk spreads on my lips as I simply shrug and allow myself to remain in his embrace. A small movement and he lets me slip from his arms but a gloved hand remains on my back all the way 'till we part from the dream.


End file.
